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Chapter Four
The Message in Art
Much can be learned from exploring the creative process from within – from listening to the accounts of artists describing how their creativity arose. But there is another side to consider – when the viewer “looks in,” receives a work of art. This is the viewing, the listening, the reading – when an audience takes in what an artist has done. As discussed in the last chapter, the commitment we humans have made in constructing buildings for this purpose is staggering. Bring to mind again the countless performance halls, art galleries, museums – as well as great houses and castles – that have been built primarily to display the artwork of the world. Further, an incredible amount of the time of our lives has been given to reading, listening, and watching the creations of artists – experiencing the myriad forms of art our fellow human beings have produced. Why have we given artists’ creations such a central role in our lives?
One important reason seems to be that just as the creation process brings the artist into contact with “something greater,” the experiencing of art does the same – bringing the viewer into the presence of the mystery for a moment, sometimes providing a glimpse into Mircea Eliade’s sacred time and space. Many philosophers and poets have believed this to be so. Plato said, “Beauty is the splendor of the true,” and was echoed 2300 years later by the poet John Keats saying, “Beauty is truth, truth beauty, that is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.”
Somehow, experiencing a powerful creative work touches something in us – at least in moments when we are open to it – that brings us closer to the truth of our lives, closer to a deeper meaning and fulfillment. This is why many philosophers believed that beauty was one of the primary attributes of the highest good, and that beauty on earth was a reflection of True Beauty, bringing us in contact with the Supreme Good.
Following this thread, we can understand much more clearly what the British writer Carlyle meant when he said, "In all true works of art, wilt thou discern eternity looking through time, the god-like rendered visible." Or we can begin to understand Goethe’s proclamation: “Art is the revelation of the concealed laws of nature which, without such revelation, would remain concealed.” These writers are pointing to the experience many of us have felt in those special moments of encountering a great work of art – a feeling that we are in contact with something that has the power to change us, and even to give us a glimpse of the answers to our most important questions.
Perhaps the power we experience in such moments – if we are open and receptive – is that we are reaching through the artist’s work and touching for ourselves the very source of their inspiration. Capturing this idea, Christine Cox says, "True art is inspired by the divine, and the source of that inspiration may be discerned by the attentive reader or viewer." One of her mentors in this understanding was Paul Brunton, who observed that "the secret of art's highest mission is that . . . it enables those who share in the experience it evokes to be brought into the absolute stillness for a moment, however unconsciously and unintentionally." He goes on to say, “The inspired artist acts as a conduit for the will of the spiritual energies, transforming matter into spiritualized substance, and manifesting the laws of the spirit here on earth.” So experiencing the work of an inspired artist gives us a chance, for an instant, to touch for ourselves the spiritual energies that are the source of artistic inspiration.
Another keen observer who explored this theme was the great mythologist Joseph Campbell, saying, "There is another and further range of the revelation of art that is beyond beauty, namely, the sublime, which has been defined as 'that which arouses sentiments of awe and reverence, and a sense of vastness and power outreaching human comprehension’.” He continues, “The sublime, transcending physical definitions, suggests magnitudes exceeding life; not refuting, but augmenting life.” “The way of art leads beyond opposites to the mountaintop of transcendental vision, where, as Blake discovered and declared, the doors of perception are cleansed and every thing appears to man as it is, infinite.”
Inspired art is thus a vehicle to experience the sublime and the infinite. In some mysterious way, inspired art serves as a manifestation of the highest laws of nature here on earth, leading us ever deeper, till we come to the very source of our existence. Through great art, we are carried to the mountaintop, to the highest possible vision, and opened to an experience of the infinite, of spirit itself. To hear this phrased poetically, let us turn to that greatest of English poets, to “the bard” himself, Shakespeare. In Midsummer-Night’s Dream, he declares:
The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;
And as imagination bodies forth
The form of things unknown, the poet’s pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.
Shakespeare is beautifully conveying here that an inspired artist can glance toward “the unseen order” and catch a glimpse of something that most of us are too busy or too self-centered to notice. (It is an “airy nothing” because most-times it is hidden from us – simply because our gaze is turned toward the mundane issues of our everyday lives.) But the inspired artist finds a way to bring what he or she has glimpsed back down to “earth,” to manifest it here on this plane in a form that the rest of us can experience (and hopefully, with the artists’ help, claim as our own). The artist gives this sacred vision a “local habitation and a name,” gives it an expression in a particular place and time on this earth, so that those of us still immersed in the daily grind can catch a glimpse of its existence – and perhaps even its significance for our own lives.
Recognizing these currents led Joseph Campbell to conclude that art is “the justifier of life" and Nietzsche to declare that art is “the proper task of life.” These statements constitute high claims indeed for art’s importance, but how else are we to understand the role and importance creative expression has been given throughout human history?
Two Kinds of Art
In the post-modern world, however, it is important to distinguish between two different kinds of art. As noted in the last chapter, throughout most of history art was entwined with the sacred in one way or another. But this is not true of everything considered art today. As post-modernism’s attack on the existence of things sacred took hold, more and more art was produced without reference to the sacred domain; instead, its motive force turned decisively in the direction of pure entertainment, or toward selling goods, or toward promoting political messages and opinions.
These currents have always been part of art, but are more and more prominent in today’s world. It would therefore be a big mistake to assume that everything referred to as “art” has a deeper meaning, connects us to the unseen, or can provide guidance for our lives. I have certainly seen my share of paintings and movies and plays that did not bring me into contact with the sacred dimension. (This could have been a failing on my part – but I doubt this was true in every case.)
In his book Inner Reaches of Outer Space, Joseph Campbell takes great pains to describe the long history of debate about two kinds of art. In the chapter “The Way of Art,” he uses James Joyce’s distinction between “proper art” and “improper art” to get to the heart of the issue. In proper art, quoting Joyce, “The mind is . . . raised above desire and loathing.” "One is not moved to physical action of any kind, but held in . . . contemplation and enjoyment.”
On the other hand, for Campbell and Joyce, “improper art” concerns itself with things of this world, and tends to arouse fear or desire. It moves us to action – either to escape from something we don’t like, or it encourages us to try to get something we think will bring us pleasure (an object, a person, or an experience). This does not mean that “improper” art should not be produced, only that it does not have the same effect on us as “proper art” – especially in connecting us to something larger than ourselves. “Improper art” is much more concerned with pure entertainment, affecting our political ideas, changing our worldly opinions about something, or selling a product.)
Tracing this theme back through the centuries to the work of the great Medieval theologian Thomas Aquinas, we hear that three things are necessary for true beauty: Integritas, Consonantia, and Claritas – which can be translated as Wholeness, Harmony, and Clarity.
Thus Joyce says, "The instant wherein that supreme quality of beauty . . . is apprehended luminously by the mind, which has been arrested by its wholeness and fascinated by its harmony, is . . . a spiritual state very like Luigi Galvani's ‘enchantment of the heart.'" Here then is the door that art opens to the sacred, bringing us clarity, letting us feel the underlying harmony of existence, and bringing us a sense of wholeness amid the chaos and fragmentation of our everyday lives.
This view of “proper art” might seem at first glance to exclude art which depicts pain and suffering. And this would be true of anything that depicts them simply to shock the viewer or to elicit a gruesome reaction. But “proper art” can depict pain and suffering if the response that is intended and usually elicited is that of compassion or deep sympathy for the suffering being shown. Even if a work elicits terror, it is still proper art, according to Joyce, if it “arrests the mind in the presence of whatsoever is grave and constant in human suffering and unites it with the secret cause."
With these words, Joyce brings us forcefully back to the connection between art and the unseen order – separated, as Joyce would, from the trappings of organized religion. The esthetic pleasure created by proper art is a spiritual state, for being brought into the presence of that which is “grave and constant,” and which unites us with the “secret cause,” is a perfect way to describe a connection with “the unseen.”
Campbell sums up his reading of these themes thusly: "Surely this is the justification of art – that beauty apprehended should have the power to illuminate the senses, still the mind, and enchant the heart." Art at this level of human experience “reestablishes us with our own deep truth, which is at one with that of all being." Thus proper art brings us to a deep recognition of the truth of our lives, and through it we are led to a clear experience of our relationship to all beings, and finally to “the secret cause” – the sacred dimension, the unseen order.
Following the Guidance
However, trying to pin down too concretely this “spiritual state” inspired by art leads mainly to differences of opinion and fierce argument. To increase our understanding, while avoiding such arguments, let us set aside for a moment any desire we might have for an explanation of this state, and simply explore how we can use the experiences described above in the living of our own lives. (This setting aside of explanations is a process often used in science; for example, Newton set aside trying to understand how gravity works, and simply focused on measuring its effects – which remains the position that science takes toward gravity to this very day. Do you know how it is that the moon reaches down and controls the tides in our oceans? No one knows how this happens, only that it appears to work this way. There is therefore great value in simply working with a premise that seems to work, without requiring a final explanation as to how it works.)
Therefore, in the realm of creativity and inspiration, let us ask: What does this inspired state so many artists have described have to teach us about the living of our lives? Are there ways each one of us can learn to “drift,” and thereby begin the process of opening more fully to the creativity and inspiration available in that mysterious region called by Shelley “the divine?”
There are at least two ways to get at answers to these questions:
1) We can immerse ourselves in the works of inspired artists throughout human history (in-spired – filled with spirit). By putting ourselves in the presence of their creations and opening our hearts and minds to their influence, maybe we can catch a glimpse of the deeper truths they were experiencing – and use those truths for our own inspiration and guidance.
Using Van Gogh as an example, why is it that his works have become so enormously popular? One argument is that in several of his paintings, he is able to make visible the energy and presence of the numinous, luminous realm of the mysterious “unseen.” Standing before “Starry Night,” perhaps his most famous work, the sky seems to be alive with an energy and vitality – but that is not true of the earth below. There is no light in the church in the valley, but the sky seems to be filled with light and energy and power. Van Gogh seems to be saying that there is a light and energy out there that he senses, and through the painting he is trying to wake our senses to what he is experiencing. (Van Gogh’s letters clearly suggest this intent.) But without knowing anything about the artist’s conscious intention, just standing in front of the painting with an open heart and mind – without any words or definitions – many have felt the presence of this energy, and felt the power of the mystery behind it. That is most likely why people come in such numbers to stand before it in wonder.
2) In addition to standing in wonder in the presence of the creations of others, it is crucially important to realize that each one of us can learn to “drift” ourselves. Each person can find a way to directly experience these moments of inspiration, to touch that state so many artists have described as the creative source. Each of us has the innate human capacity to experience moments of “the visitation of the divine” in our own unique way. (We will explore many ways that others have used tio accomplish this end in a later chapter.)
An artist is one who can translate these inspirational moments into works of art – making manifest this “airy nothing” in the here and now world. But there is nothing to stop any one of us from following the guidance of Henry David Thoreau when he said, “To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of arts.” Each of us can practice this “highest of arts” by bringing the insights of our moments of inspiration – no matter how transitory and ephemeral they may be – into the living of our daily lives. Each one of us can invite that place of inner inspiration to “affect the quality of the day” – and perhaps through the changes this brings about in us, we will begin to more positively affect the quality of the day of each person we meet.
Perhaps this is the reason that in Bali – a culture which many travelers through the ages have considered a paradise – every person is an artist. From a very early age, each child is encouraged to take up one of the many artistic means of expression in that culture, and to continue its practice throughout life. This certainly is not done so that each child can earn a living as an artist. Instead, it seems to spring from a deep cultural understanding that by encouraging everyone to practice a form of artistic expression, each will be opened to the deep springs of experience that art has to offer life. As religious scholar Huston Smith once said, “Art is spiritual technology.”
A questioner once asked Carl Jung what one should do with creativity if he or she did not happen to be an artist. His reply: "What can a person create if he does not happen to be a poet? If you have nothing at all to create, then perhaps you create yourself.” So perhaps the possibility is that each of us who has the courage can begin the long process of learning to work with these deep states of creativity and inspiration, learning gradually to bring the full force of these powers to bear upon the creation of ourselves and our lives. Perhaps the ultimate role of art – both the creating and the experiencing of it – is to bring us into the presence of these energies for a moment. And the value of our deepest inspirations is not just to create art, but to open us to the fullest possible experience and expression of life.
1 Hederman
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